There were two brothers bright.
Mirrors to each other, but not quite.
The first made every action larger than life.
The second was discreet gesture, subtle strife.
For the first, everything ordinary was painted in fire -
– to be celebrated, to express, to show.
For the second, deepest heartfelt anguish
was a matter of moving an eyelash slow.
The second wrote of –
–
universes in the nudge of a letter.
The first told tales -
– painting every act in colourful theatre.